


Blood & Oak

by Flowers_n_Dragons



Series: Feral Bard Series [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dagger used for cutting clothes and skin, Geralt is fucked against a tree, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, lip biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28938789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowers_n_Dragons/pseuds/Flowers_n_Dragons
Summary: Jaskier is almost bested at fighting practice so he decides to bite Geralt on the lip. He is very surprised to find out the witcher does not mind it a bit. His feral nature reacts in kind...It culminates in very rough sex against an oak tree.PWP.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Feral Bard Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897528
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Blood & Oak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tottering_fool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tottering_fool/gifts).



> Yeah I had an idea again, about how Jaskier would not like being fucked against a tree. But then my brain went - but Geralt might! So this fic was born. Also I read a fic with Jaskier biting Geralt's lip which I found incredibly hot (I shall put in the link too once I find it again) so there. I wanted to keep it short. Someone please teach me how to do that. Like keeping stuff about 1200-1500 words max? Thanks.

The metallic clang, then a screech, followed by pain in his wrist indicated that Jaskier fucked up royally. He lost his weapon ; it landed with a less sonorous bang on the forest clearings cold, grass-covered ground.

This was bad.

He would be punished by his trainer and most likely not the fun way for losing his weapon.... Unless... He decided on his next action in a flash: he went offensive, tackling the witcher. To the surprise of both, he succeeded in his endeavor, and they ended up wrestling on the ground. Needless to say, Geralt had no trouble gaining advantage in that mode of fight either, thus sooner than he would have cared to ever admit, he was pinned under the heaving, sweaty and disheveled bulk of the witcher.

However, the upper half of his torso was still free for a precious fraction of a second. The adrenaline fuelling his fury dictated his ultimate move : he surged up to meet the face of his opponent, which was only a span or two away from his own, then he bit down on his lover lip, without any gentleness, but without drawing blood.

Geralt gave out a delightful groan that, of course, went straight to Jaskier's cock. To his disappointment, the witcher pushed him back on the ground and growled, "No".

"Sorry Geralt, I didn't mean to...."

He shook his head at that. "No. Do it properly. I am your enemy, Jaskier. You don't play nice. You fight for your life, any way you must. If all you can do is bite your opponent, then bite you should. Make him bleed", came the harsh, gruff instructions with a hint of kinkiness Jaskier could easily detect. 

"Are you fucking serious? You want me to.... Draw blood?" he said in an incredulous tone. 

"I can take it, Jaskier. I heal fast. Besides..."He let his body do the talking, grinding his crotch against the bard's stomach, making him gasp while uttering a sultry "Fuck.... "

" Mmmh just what I was thinking too." Geralt quipped, voice saturated with menace and want." After you best me, feral one. Now, do what you did before, but this time like you mean it."

He took up the exact position he had been in, then raised an eyebrow. Jaskier instantly darted to his face; his teeth sank into the supple, pink flesh on the right side of his bottom lip. He willed the muscles in his jaws to constrict, putting force into the bite. It felt a tad bit wrong, somehow, to maim Geralt on purpose, especially those lips that had brought him so much pleasure, but the rush of the fight and his freshly kindled lust pushed the doubt back and brought forth something wild. A moment later, his tastebuds were awash with the coppery life essence of the witcher, making him lose it completely. Some primal, ferocious part of his brain took the reins - he sucked on the wound for more of the red liquid, greedy for its taste. 

The noise that gurgled forth from Geralt's throat was akin to a siren's song for Jaskier. 

"I yield...." the witcher managed to form the words and the bard immediately stopped and pulled back, but only just far enough to examine the damages. He was getting shivers, for one part of him loved seeing the swollen, crimson marks and the smudged droplets contrasting with the pale complexion of the White Wolf, but another part wanted to tend to the injuries of his friend immediately. He didn't have time to get into caretaker mode, because Geralt leaned over him, panting: "Fuck Jaskier you little devil....", then he tangled his sweat-frizzled, brown tresses in his fingers and crushed their bloodied lips together, kissing the bard dizzy. 

"I thought devils weren't real." Jaskier teased when he tumbled out of the kiss for some oxygen. 

"I was wrong... Now shut up and fuck me against that tree." He used his gaze to indicate a sturdy-looking oak a couple paces from them. 

"Yeah I don't know about the first one, but I can most definitely do the second. If you would, you know..." he glanced down to his waist where he was straddled by the larger man. Fuck that cock looked like it would burst those leathers open any second, he howled internally as all he could glance at was the witcher's loins. 

Geralt was quick on the uptake. He clambered to his feet, then offered his arm to the man on the ground. Jaskier took it, an expectant smile playing on his lips. Not for naught, for as soon as he was pulled up, his wolf was upon him with the same intensity as before, licking up the taste of his own blood while tugging impatiently at the grass- and dirt-soiled, blue shirt of the bard. 

Geralt started to back up towards the oak, his hands and mouth not leaving Jaskier's body even for a fraction of a moment. He didn't need to, as his lover was expertly navigating the both of them, blue eyes scanning the ground continuously while they waltzed their way to the tree. Jaskier's hands were not idle either; he deftly did away with the buttons and laces on Geralt's pants, so the moment his lover's back hit the bark, he wedged a thigh between his, grinding against his crotch with intent and freed the gorgeous cock from its confines, jerking it with the pressure and speed he knew his White Wolf enjoyed the most. He was instantly rewarded with viscous fluid against his fingers and the breathy moans he would forever prefer listening to over any song ever created. 

"Hand me your dagger", he whispered to the larger man's ear before putting his tongue to his earlobe. 

"You already have it...." Geralt smirked. 

"Oh aren't you funny..." He let go of the penis and stepped back, his palm already itching from the loss. "I meant the one I could use to cut you out of your clothes."

"Should have started with that, little devil." Geralt gracefully pulled the weapon out from his boots and handed it, hilt first, to his trainee; he took it and without a moment's hesitation, ran it up the middle of the black shirt of his lover. The steel flashed metallic against black, the blade skating on skin from waist to collarbone. The garment opened like a curtain, revealing the fresh crimson line on the scar-ravaged white torso . Jaskier delighted in the view, wetted his kiss-bruised lips, then bent down, put the flat of his tongue on the now bloodied, rock-hard abs and in a langorous sweep, licked his way up the fresh wound. Geralt keened from the sensations, arching into the slick touch, hips canting wantonly, seeking friction. Jaskier grinned like a brat as he stepped back, feasting his eyes on his lover again, then yanked the torn garment off the witcher. He dropped to his knees to rid Geralt of his boots and trousers, but not before spending a couple minutes licking and sucking the throbbing erection right in his face while he was there.

"Get on with the undressing, you devil. I want you inside me." Geralt urged him. 

"Mmmh shay pheashh", Jaskier replied, mouth full of cock, saliva coating half his face, his azure orbs glazed with desire, not stopping with his ministrations. 

"Please Jaskier... Quit teasing.... Ahhh fuck...how are you so good at this..." the witcher rolled his eyes to the heavens, desperately trying not to come just yet. 

His pleas were answered and with a collaborative effort, they got rid of the offending items. Geralt was just about to rip off the bard's clothes, but he firmly stopped him. 

" It's too cold, darling. I'm keeping my clothes on. Now, turn around, let me open you up for me."

Geralt obeyed; arms stretched out, waist bent, back arching, he held onto the treetrunk and presented his bottom to Jaskier, who could not resist ; he kneeled again and mouthed at the perfect, firm globes. His lightly stubbled cheeks ground against sweaty skin; the insides of his nose and mouth were being coated with the salty musk of the gorgeous man he was lucky enough to already call his lover; it was making him spiral to desperation by the second. 

"Use your teeth", came the request from the silver-haired man between moans. 

"Like this?" the brunette scraped the edge of his teeth gently on the skin. 

"No. Bite me. Want you to go completely feral on me, Jaskier. Get crazy", he rasped, demanding. 

"Mmmh then I shall proceed with destroying you, my dear witcher. Don't hold back your magnificent noises; I do adore so when you voice your pleasure."

"Allright.... AAAAH!" he was caught unaware ; Jaskier did not waste a second in unleashing his ferocity and bit the curve of his left cheek hard. 

"Too much? Sorry...." Jaskier backtracked immediately.

"No. Just... Sudden. Go on. Please." 

So he did. With wild abandon, he made marks the likes of such he would have never dared to on a human, lapping up the tiny drops of blood as they sprang forth, confident that the Witcher would heal within hours, enjoying himself thoroughly. Judging by the absolutely wrecked grunts and hisses of Geralt, he did too. By this point, his own penis was aching from neglect, a wet spot already appearing on the front of his grey breeches. He freed his member, but didn't touch himself, congratulating himself on his immense self-control; instead, he fumbled through his pocket for the small box of slick he got into the habit of carrying to fighting practice, as about eight times out of ten, it ended up with sex. He coated his long, elegant fingers on his right and began to tease the puckered opening, his left hand and mouth continuing with making marks on the globes of the witcher. 

"Get to it already." the words were breathy with need. 

"What do we say?" 

"Oh you fucking brat...." Geralt mumbled then with a stronger but begging tone, went on: "Please, give me your fingers. Stretch me for you, feral one." 

"Much better." 

Jaskier obliged, loosening the tight channel with practiced ease and playfulness, his left hand flying to stroke himself, his entire being, beginning with his dark red, rock-hard cock was throbbing with the desire to fuck Geralt's brains out. Fortunately, the witcher opened up to him beautifully and fast, with his hips pushing back on his hand with perfect rhythm; he stared with wonderment at the shiny, reddened hole widening and pulling his fingers in as they worked him.

"I'm ready, Jaskier." 

"I can see and feel that, dear. Hang on just a little longer, lover, you are getting it. All of it, hard and fast." He pulled out and replaced the digits with the leaking tip of his cock, teasing the gaping hole, willing his muscles not to thrust just yet. He reached for the slick again, but to his surprise, Geralt stood up straight and turned around. Jaskier did so, too, facing him. 

" No. With my back against the tree. Hoist me. Spear me and fuck me so hard my back is scraped bloody on the bark with every thrust." the witcher uttered, gaze dark and heavy as he snaked his hands under Jaskier's shirt and raked his nails across his front, ending up with gripping his hard length with his right. 

"Oh fuck, you and your filthy mouth, Wolf" Jaskier crashed against him, kissing him with all the heat that had built up inside. Meanwhile he started thinking about how he is actually going to pull this feat off ; he was strong, but his lover was big; a mountain of a man, all hard, toned muscle... Suddenly, he had an idea. 

"Mmmh let me go for a second, darling" he pleaded as his mouth was plundered incessantly, his head held in place by greedy hands. 

"What for?" 

"I will need some help with what you want me to do", the smaller man answered and stepped back. Geralt let him. He searched the ground for a black pile of clothing ; he found it fast, and with a dramatic "ta-da!", fetched it. He perused the oak then the shirt, then nodded. 

"We will use this as a rope you can hold onto, so your whole weight won't be bearing down on my waist. Can you tie it to those branches, please? Is that a good height?" 

Geralt shook his head to clear the fog of lust a little and considered the proposal, examining the tree with narrowed eyes. 

" Yeah, it could work. Give me the shirt." He was handed the torn garment; he fashioned it into a makeshift rope and placed it as instructed. Then he leaned against the tree and beckoned Jaskier to him with his gaze; not like the man needed any invitation; he was salivating just at the sight of his naked lover with his bruised lip, marked-up torso and straining, leaking, magnificently dark penis, just to name a few features he feasted his eyes on while he walked up to him, his hand stroking himself, spreading some slick on his own member. He was getting hot; he tore off his own shirt and let it hit the ground wherever, then made quick work of his boots, pants and braies as well. He stepped up to Geralt, face to face, chest to chest, hip to hip and whispered, 

"Hop up, dear. Let me fuck you good and proper." Those were his last coherent words for quite a while ; Geralt pulled himself up and tilted his hips for easier access. Jaskier positioned himself, both his legs and his prick. The witcher slowly lowered himself, wrapping his legs around his lover's waist. Jaskier felt the tip of his cock breach the ring of his partner's hole; he held onto his thighs, supporting (thankfully not the entirety of) the witcher's weight before he slowly sank into the awaiting wet tightness. The feeling was incredible ; no matter how many times they'd done it, the act of the first penetration always took his breath away and this time was no different, especially with the amount of teasing previously. His waist and legs now bore quite a mass, but it was still comfortable. 

"Good?" He asked, looking up to Geralt's face, also seeing how his arms strained with the effort of keeping himself in position. 

"Hmmmm. Is the weight..." 

"Yeah, it's fine... Oh fuck Geralt can I..." he panted against the curly hairs on his chest, then ran his hands to the larger man's hips and squeezed to make his point clearer. 

"Move, feral one. Fuck me with all you got. Don't hold back", was all the response he got. So he braced himself, and with his face on those wonderful pecs, he tilted his hips so the peach-halves of his bottom were in their fullness, as high as he could get them, his shiny shaft thus almost completely out in the cool air again. Then he braced himself (and his partner) and thrust back into the warmth, sharp and sudden, his ass cheeks constricting. The resulting moan made him do this again, and again, fucking Geralt into the bark of the oak, his ears picking up the raspy noises of skin being torn on rough surface. Soon, his nose detected a whiff of blood, too. Geralt moaned even louder. That told him to pick up his pace, thrusts more shallow but he used the power thusly saved to ram into the ass of his lover stronger. He peeked down for a moment ; he was happy see what he already felr; the witcher's cock caught between them, stroked ruddy and glistening wet. 

"That's it... Perfect.... Don't stop, Jaskier.... Aaahh you little devil, you can go harder, can't you?" the aaah was for the new mark the bard sucked onto the skin just under his left nipple. 

"Like this?" Jaskier smirked. He took a moment to let each and every sense of his to be enveloped in Geralt, in their lovemaking; his lust flamed up anew and he pumped up into his lover even harder, using every fiber of his body for the feral act. He wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep this up; he felt the familiar heat rising, the tension in him coiling, nearly ready to spring. He kept up the brutal tempo nevertheless, wanting to please his lover, to satisfy him completely. 

"Yesss....yessss.....my feral bard ...aaahhn my love...er... Mark me yours....yesss...." 

Jaskier lost it at the l-word. He pumped up, to his balls, so hard and fast he almost snapped, for once, twice, thrice and with a bite into whatever flesh he found against his mouth, came with such intensity he shook bodily as he spilled into Geralt. His nerves were alive, buzzing with bliss; it was heaven. He registered through the haze of orgasm that his lover also peaked, covering both of them with thick ropes of sticky spend. 

They remained there, panting, not wanting to separate just yet. However, Jaskier's legs began to tremble; the witcher sensed the tremors so he braced himself on the shirt/rope and let go of Jaskier's waist with his legs. The bard pulled out, the cold air hit his softening manhood most unpleasantly. Geralt lowered himself to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the earth, he pulled Jaskier into his hot embrace. Together, they sank to the ground, thoroughly and spectacularly wrecked. 

"Thank you, lover", Geralt breathed against his mouth before kissing him with unprecedented gentleness. Jaskier was getting a little dizzy; the afterglow of his amazing orgasm, hearing his, well, lover call him lover (or did he mean love and then corrected himself?), and his gentleness after his voracious, consummate desire made a thousand emotion gush forth from his heart. He was not ready to show his vulnerability to Geralt just yet, so he kissed him back with similar sweetness, whispering

"You are very welcome, lover."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments feed the author 😊❤️


End file.
